entrancelogs

Who: Claire Fraser + YOU
Where: Her room, clinic, outside
When: After the hurricane blows over
Rating: Light cursing, wherever that puts us.
Summary: Something's wrong with the closet and Claire blames whatever tf happened over the weekend. Plus, she needs to check on the garden.
The Story:

☼ home ☼

Ever since arriving in Wonderland and for few exceptions otherwise, Claire has always dressed in 18th-century fashion. Not because it's overly comfortable; it's sentimental. Frank had purposefully destroyed every single thing Claire had to remind her of the life she'd lived with Jamie (save for Brianna, of course, and her ring), and she'd be damned if anyone would ever take that away from her again. Twenty years was long enough. Besides that, her husband won't suddenly and all at once adapt to 20th-century life. Paired with Wonderland being modern in and of itself, seeing their daughter in bikinis, shorts, and tank tops is enough for the poor man's heart, she feels.

Which is why there's some frustration happening in their room today.

Every now and then she keeps the door open to invite friends new and old alike to their 4th floor home. It's almost like being Laird and Lady again, to have people come in and out of their home just to visit. They don't collect rent and they aren't overseeing anyone's safety and well-being, but it's nice all the same to get to know their fellow residents. But today, that open door is revealing a current struggle.

"You damned bloody closet, cooperate," she huffs. But it doesn't. And outfit after outfit is modern, including the one she's currently wearing. Giving up, she rubs her face and decides to just spend her day in the damned blue dress and heels, if that's what she's meant to do for God knows what reason.

"Christ, fine."

The rest of her morning is spent tending to her indoor plants, fussing over them and trimming what needs to be, taking care to check soil and light and everything else that goes into taking care of her herbs. Sometimes Bree or sometimes Jamie will lead people through their own version of Lallybroch to speak with Claire and she greets everyone, happy to chat the day away.

☤ clinic ☤

Making her way to the clinic and pushing the door open, she props it then stares in confusion once the lights are on. Broken glass.

"How in Christ's name..."

It's interior, with the views she assumed were magical because how in hell does an interior room have windows? And yet whatever hurricane winds swept through shattered two of them and she sets out for a broom and dustpan to try and get it cleaned up. Why didn't Wonderland repair itself? Or is it still trying? She has no idea. If they don't repair themselves she'll need to ask someone if they can help, but for now, she simply closes the shades once the glass has been removed. At least the weather is nicer now.

Once she's done, Claire sits behind her desk right at the front and gets to work on a list of things to plant outdoors now that spring has arrived and she has a better idea of the climate during each season in Wonderland. She's lost in thought and tapping her pen against her cheek, contemplating beets and radishes this year instead of carrots and peas. Maybe she'll just go for all four. That's why as someone walks in, she murmurs. "If you had your own garden, would you rather yield radishes or carrots?"

✿ Gardens ✿

Early in the evening, but before supper with Jamie and Bree, Claire heads outside to the gardens, trading her high heels for boots and wearing an apron over her dress. A dress that is so impractical for outdoor work, but a fight she didn't want to continue having with Wonderland's magic.

Basket in hand, she crouches, trying to remember not to bend lest she give everyone a free show. Examing plants, she moves to the greenhouse where things are up on raised tables and she doesn't have to worry about being down on her hands and knees in a dress. As she works, she hums to herself, a mindless tune that sounds suspiciously like Stop, in the Name of Love. It's peaceful, which means it's easy to get lost in her own thoughts out here, busy working as she is. She loves company, though, never minding it as she adds things to her basket and makes notes of what she's going to plant and where.

❤ Wildcard ❤

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Hawke had been on his way to talk to Claire about something but all thoughts of that slip his mind when he hears the noises coming from her room and lets himself in.]

Giving you some trouble?

[ Claire is just throwing a high heel back into the closet in sheer annoyance. Looking over at Hawke, she huffs. ]

Whatever happened this weekend has fucked the closets. At least for me.

[ It's probably just her, that's her luck. ]

Well.

[He's had his own cases of the closets being rude to him, so he's not that surprised.]

That's an easy one to test, at least.

Please, by all means.

[ She steps aside to let him use the closet. ]

If it's just me I might throw a lit match into that damned void, whatever it is.

I'll light it for you.

[He tries something simple, opening the closet again to pull out a small figurine of a dog and holding it up for Claire to see.]

Well. There's that.

[ Claire frowns a little. ]

Is that what you were going for?

[He nods.]

Figured I should try for something small, so let's see if something bigger works.

[Closing the closet, he reopens it to pull out a painting.]

... Well, not quite what I was going for because I'd never ask for something so Orlesian but it's still technically right. Should I try for something for you?

[ Claire lets out a breath, then rubs the bridge of her nose and shakes her head. ]

No, it's alright. Clearly, I've done something to anger whatever's in charge of the closets. For fuck's sake...

[ Still, she just shakes her head and braces herself against the wall to slip into high heels. ]

It doesn't matter. Jamie's going to hate it but I'll worry about what he thinks of my attire later.

I don't think it's that. I think Wonderland just likes to play with us outside of events sometimes.

[Speaking from experience? Maybe.]

It once refused to give me nothing but a pair of pants that only went down to [He estimates about an inch below his ass with an exasperated look.] here.

[He did not wear the booty shorts.]

Think of it this way. If he hates it, it's more reason to tear it off you.

[ Don't mind her snickering a little at the length he indicates. At least she isn't the only victim of the closet's sense of humor.

But, she lets out a hefty breath. ]

You do have a way of finding the bright side.

[ Said with a smirk. ]

If you hear a loud thud later it might just be Jamie hitting the ground.

[He would've rocked those shorts but nobody - except maybe Cullen - wants to see that.]

Might as well make the best of a bad situation.

[He grins.]

At least try to get him to a bed first. Better for the back, isn't it?

[ That does make Claire laugh. ]

You know, when he saw me again for the first time in twenty years, he fainted dead away. I thought I'd given him a heart attack.

[ Legitimately, too. It's how his father passed and it runs in the family. ]

[Now it's Hawke's turn to laugh.]

Well, I can't exactly blame him. Twenty years, though...

[He lets out a low whistle.]

How'd you manage?

Threw myself into going to medical school to become a doctor. I likely wasn't a very good or present mother, then. I just missed Jamie, terribly. It was like being in love with a ghost, really.

[ Claire looks at Hawke. ]

I thought he was dead. All of that time.

Well, based on what I've seen about Bree, you still did a good job raising her, Claire.

[He frowns, though.]

I can't even imagine what that was like.

It was like being in love with a ghost.

[ Mrs. Graham had warned her to not chase ghosts, but how could she have helped it when proof that what she'd had with Jamie was real was always right in front of her? ]

... Did you try to move on?

[Honestly, he's more asking for himself than anything else.]

No.

[ It's an instant answer, but she does clear her throat and give a bit more information. ]

I was married. Before Jamie. While married to Jamie, just...two-hundred years in the future. When he sent me back to the right time, and pregnant, it was with the hope that I would be going back to someone who would keep me. And raise our child.

[ As much as it hurt to raise Brianna with Bree, Frank was an incredible father. She can never deny that. Jamie's hope, that Claire and his baby would be safe, certainly came true. She won't bullshit her friend. ]

But I never stopped wanting Jamie. He was dead, even if he didn't die on the battlefield. I just couldn't let go of him.

[Good naturedly, as Claire is talking about being two-hundred years in the future:] Maker, your life is confusing sometimes.

[After that, he lets her finish, sympathy colouring his features.]

I don't think moving on means you have to let go, in a way, but it's probably different for everyone. [He lets out a sigh he'd been holding in.] I'm sure you can figure out why I asked.

I can.

[ She reaches out, squeezing his hand tightly. ]

I just wish I had a better answer for you. I can't say that I was strong and soldiered on because I didn't. I couldn't. I was always halfway stuck, with one part of me firmly in a different century, the one I wanted to be in, even if it meant death.

[ She would have died, gladly, on the battlefield beside Jamie. At least they would have been together. ]

ota }

🏠

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